


play it off like a holiday high

by trite



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Life Day (Star Wars), M/M, Post-Canon, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:15:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28189809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trite/pseuds/trite
Summary: The first signs of the upcoming celebration were the string lights.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	play it off like a holiday high

**Author's Note:**

> I needed some distraction from RL and @venatohru was kind enough to prompt me with “Hux celebrating Life Day for the first time.” 
> 
> Happy holidays. ♥

The first signs of the upcoming celebration were the string lights. They appeared to be covering every entrance on the base. Furthermore, when Hux had ventured outside he found they were lightning every path and every road, every terminal, store, or port, like a beacon for a population that didn’t include Hux.

He spotted the green shrub with the waxy berries next. It dangled from doorways and supposedly promised ‘union,’ though from what Hux had seen it mostly promised discomfort for those not accustomed to public displays of affection. He steered clear but people seemed to flock to it, on purpose or by accident.

The baubles filled with tiny colored glow panels that appeared sometime between the rising of the incandescent sun and its slow descent behind the imposing trees did catch his attention, though.

“They’re pretty, right?” Dameron said, sitting next to him on the wood bench. It was technically meant for two occupants but maybe two with a deeper sense of familiarity than them.

The lights were indeed pretty, but something lodged itself in Hux’s throat at the idea of verbalizing it. In any case, he had already known Dameron’s feelings on the matter. Hux had seen his astromech with a golden glow-infused bauble hanging from its antenna earlier in the day. It was a solely decorative addition, maybe one in detriment to its functionality.

He turned to look at Dameron in lieu of forming a response and caught him haloed by the blinking yellow-white-pink combination of lights overhead. _Yes, very pretty,_ he thought, tamping down the burning feeling that extended from his throat to his stomach.

“Everyone seems very — enthusiastic about this holiday,” Hux said, careful not to let incredulity or disdain bleed into his words.

“I think it’s different this year. It feels more life-affirming. Future-affirming, maybe. There’s the comforting knowledge that you won’t wake up to a war-torn galaxy the next day.”

Hux understood. They were letting this possibly temporary sense of safety wrap around their bones and burrow into their bodies.

“You haven’t celebrated it before, have you?” Dameron asked, turning in his direction, his gaze piercing and disarming.

Hux was not celebrating it now, either. He was, at most, observing it. “I wasn’t unfamiliar with it.” He willed defensiveness not to creep into his words but likely failed. In any case, the number of things he didn’t know about it made it seem like a lie.

“That’s not the same. Passing familiarity doesn’t preclude ignorance.” Dameron’s words were firm and factual, reaching Hux where he least wanted it.

To Hux, it had been another alien tradition, another terribly sentimental and demonstrative display that had only served to highlight their weaknesses. He hadn’t understood its significance — still didn’t — but now he was mostly surprised by the fact that so many people across the galaxy seemed to. It somehow spoke to several cultures and species and planets, orderly connecting them in a small way.

He felt similarly about naming days or wishing day, or what he once incorrectly had believed to be called ‘handholding day’ until he had realized the actual name was _heart-holding day_. He hadn’t observed it yet but he was certain he would soon enough suffer the indignity. These celebrations were just abstract concepts.

They all served the same purpose to Hux: another unpleasant reminder that the galaxy didn’t function as he had once believed it did.

“How will you celebrate it?” Hux asked. He didn’t particularly care but he felt better knowing he was the one steering the conversation.

“I’m going to Yavin 4 for a few days. To visit my dad.” That was the other tenet of Life Day: family. Companionship. An alien celebration indeed. “You’ll be fine here, right?” His question landed somewhere between genuine concern and genuine accusation, never picking a side.

“Yes, and so will the galaxy.” These days there was nothing for Hux to conquer other than what resided within himself.

Dameron laughed, the sound taking shape, texture, and warmth in the space between them. A tangible thing. “If you managed to accomplish galactic domination in three days I would be impressed.”

“Impressed enough not to oppose me?” Hux said, giving in to the urge to turn and look at the lights to his right again, at their reflection. The evening around them was a muted shade of dark blue brought to luminescence only by the artificial glow panels.

“Nope, not that impressed.” The inflexibility of his words and tone was betrayed by the way he directed a slight smile at his knees as he looked down.

Hux saw him bite his lip; his teeth forming a small indentation on his lower lip. He saw his mouth form words and was caught staring until Dameron said, “hey, am I boring you?”

Hux turned away. “I got the general idea. There is room to perform heroics on Life Day.”

“I’m glad to have taught you a very important lesson,” he said, patting his knee twice, briefly. “Happy Life Day.”

When Hux felt him shift beside him, he said, “it’s not Life Day yet. Or will you say that Life Day is a feeling inside us and a sense of companionship?”

“That’s actually not bad. Did you come to that conclusion on your own? Did I manage to—?”

Hux leaned forward and swallowed the rest of his words with his mouth. He kept his eyes open as he pressed their mouths together, nothing but a brief brush of lips, an exchange of air. He memorized the small exhale Dameron let out in the space between them as he pulled away a second later.

Dameron tilted his head upward, changing the angle of the lights reflecting on him; intermittently illuminating and casting shadows around his lips, the hollow of his throat, his eyes.

“Oh,” he said with a surprised exhale.

“What?”

“I thought you had caught me under mistletoe.” He smiled easily. As easy as his decency sneaked past people’s defenses. “Were you just trying to shut me up?”

Hux was certain it said something unfavorable about him that he hadn’t considered the necessity of an artifice before closing the distance between them. The comfort of plausible deniability had been swiftly ignored in the name of blind impulse.

 _Yes, I wanted you to stop talking_ , Hux considered saying, but the real reason was far more mundane. Their proximity had seemed like a promise and a threat; the not-entirely unwelcome idea that things could happen that were outside of Hux’s control. “Would that be an effective way of accomplishing it?”

After a long moment where Dameron stared at the distance and drummed his fingers against his knees, he turned and said, “If I say yes I would only be encouraging you to do it again.”

Hux turned to look at the sky, wishing for some distance from this moment. The air was cold but not frigid enough to freeze his bones, to make his breath come out as smoke between them; maybe evidence that Hux had burned down inside, extinguished himself.

“No, I won’t be doing that again.” His own actions were confusing to him. _I wasn’t like this before,_ Hux thought viciously.

“Hey,” Dameron said, trying to pull Hux’s attention back to him.

When Hux turned in his direction he was met with the soft press of Dameron’s lips against his own, a chaste gesture that ignited as their mouths opened, getting impossibly closer. Dameron’s hand went to the back of his neck as he tilted his head to make Hux follow his movements; his kiss was firm and confident, a promise against his lips.

He rubbed the tip of his nose against Hux’s cheek as they separated and said, “we’ll talk about this when I get back.”

A reason for Hux to stay, not that he was looking for one to leave.


End file.
